


How To Survive Christmas: A Guide By Hiccup Haddock

by wilderwestqueen (untakenbeepun)



Category: How to Train Your Dragon (Movies)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Christmas, F/M, IT IS AN AU AND IT IS MODERN, IT IS SET IN MODERN TIMES, Little bit of angst, Modern AU, but some good parents too, mostly fluffy, some crappy ass parents, this is a modern au
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-12-25
Updated: 2017-12-25
Packaged: 2019-02-20 00:11:28
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,079
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13135089
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/untakenbeepun/pseuds/wilderwestqueen
Summary: The Christmas season is difficult enough with your father messing with your love life. When Astrid gets invited over for Christmas, Hiccup becomes obsessed with making it the best Christmas ever.





	How To Survive Christmas: A Guide By Hiccup Haddock

**Author's Note:**

> Also posted on my tumblr under wilderwestqueen, and on my fanfic.net page, under QueenoftheWilderwest!

** How To Survive Christmas: A Guide By Hiccup Haddock  **

Hiccup loved winter.

As November crawled into December, and the world became dark at four o’clock, Hiccup found himself spending every evening curled up in an armchair by the fire, a book in hand and his cat at his feet. Those long evenings that started early and ended late were Hiccup’s favourite, warm and comfortable, utterly bliss, if it wasn’t for the holiday coming up.

Hiccup may have loved winter, but Christmas was a different ball game.

It wasn’t that he _hated_ the holiday, not really. It just seemed like an awful lot of effort for what usually ended in passionate political arguments at the table between his family, a needless amount of stress over presents that would be forgotten about in a few weeks, and a terrible amount of washing up. 

Also, there were only so many times you could listen that Mariah Carey song.  

He remembered loving the holiday when he was younger, but as he’d grown older, the whole thing had lost its appeal. Perhaps that was just what happened when you became an adult – Christmas loses all of its magic. For Hiccup, December had become less about celebrating the birth of Jesus Christ as it had about surviving the holiday season without decapitating a plastic reindeer. 

He’d already begun thinking about his plan for survival when his father had dropped a bomb on him that sent all of his plans for a quiet, uneventful Christmas out the window.

“I think we should invite the Hoffersons over to join the celebrations on Christmas Day.”

Hiccup spat out his tea.

They’d been sitting in comfortable silence for the past half an hour, the fire flickering away while Hiccup was curled up with a book and a mug of tea, his father opposite, newspaper open on the crossword.

“The Hoffersons? As in, the Hoffersons who live next door? As in, Astrid and her mother?” Hiccup gabbled, wiping the spit off of his face.

His father, Stoick, glanced up from his newspaper. “Yes, as in those Hoffersons. Who else?”

“No,” Hiccup said, quickly. “You can’t invite them. You always said Christmas was for family and family only.”

“I said that so you would stop bringing in stray cats and demanding that we feed them dinner.” 

“Point still stands.”

Stoick raised an eyebrow. “What have you got against me inviting them over? I thought you liked Astrid. You two haven’t been fighting, have you?”  

Hiccup sighed and shrank back into his chair. “No.”

“You two were the best of friends once. Why don’t I see her around anymore?”

He couldn’t explain high school politics to his father. He wouldn’t understand that there were hierarchies; Hiccup Haddock and Astrid Hofferson were on completely different levels, and they ran in different circles. They had been as close as close could be once, but by the time they started secondary school, they’d drifted apart. They still talked occasionally, and she was always nice to him, but they were hardly best friends anymore. Barely even acquaintances, honestly.

“School got busy,” was the answer Hiccup went with. 

His father folded his newspaper and set it down on the table. “You know this time of year is difficult for them.”

Hiccup sighed again, guilt worming its way into his gut. “I know.”

“After the incident-”

“ _I know._ ”

The incident.

Boxing Day two years prior had been eventful. Everyone on the street had heard Mrs. Hofferson’s howling. They’d run outside just in time to see her throwing suitcases out of the upstairs window, Mr. Hofferson standing feebly out in the snow. 

“It’s neighbourly to at least invite them.” 

Hiccup sighed for a third time. The guilt had settled in the bottom of his stomach. “You’re right,” he said. “Invite them.”

On the inside though, he prayed that they’d refuse, or else he was going to have to figure out how he was going to survive spending Christmas with the girl he’d been in love with for years.

* * *

 

**Six Days Until Christmas**

Of course, they said yes.

Mrs. Hofferson was delighted by the invitation, promising to bring over Christmas cake and asking if there was anything she could do to help. Hiccup had been shoved out the door – “go and buy some proper decorations, for goodness sake, and stop acting like such a Grinch,” his father had said – leaving adults on the porch to gossip.  

The shopping centre was hell on Earth.

The place was teeming with people, all packed in tight into a space that felt like it was too small to hold everyone, and everybody there was in such a rush. Hiccup ducked into the first shop he came to, determined to get this over with as quickly as possible.   

He found himself dragging himself up one aisle, pushing the cheapest decorations he could find into the shopping trolley, while Mariah Carey blasted loud and tinny through the speakers.

 _God_ , he hated Mariah Carey.  

As he got to the end of the aisle, after passing a terrifying Santa mask with a semi-realistic face that looked like it had come straight out of horror movie set, Hiccup bent over the handle of the trolley and groaned.

“Hiccup?”

That voice was familiar. 

He jolted up out of his position and stood up straight, his beanie flying off his head as he did so. “Astrid!” He dropped to the floor and grabbed his hat, sliding it back onto his head in one quick motion. “Hi! Hey, Astrid. Hi.”

She laughed. “Hi, Hiccup.”

“So,” he said, attempting to lean casually on the shopping trolley, “how’s it going?”

It was unfair how cute she looked, all bundled up in a duffle coat, with a hat and scarf. Her hair was down for once, cascading in blonde waves down her back, strands of it still fluttering in front of her face after being outside in the wind and cold. 

“It’s good,” she said, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear. “Last minute Christmas shopping?”

He watched as she peered curiously into his trolley, and he felt the urge to cover up his purchases, almost embarrassed by how little thought he’d put into them. 

“Dad sent me out to get some extra stuff.”

Astrid nodded. “Right,” she said, and then brushed her fringe out of her face. “Hey, Hiccup, I just wanted to let you know how grateful I am that you invited me and Mum over for Christmas.”

Hiccup blinked. “You are?”

“Yeah,” she said, and then her expression fell a little. “We didn’t really bother with Christmas last year.”

“I know,” he said, softly.

The Hofferson house, usually so bright and vibrant every year, with lights and decorations to rival everyone on the street, had been dark and silent the year before. 

“Do you still see your dad at all?” he asked, and then kicked himself.

This was the first proper conversation they’d had in months, and he was asking about that? Foot, meet mouth. 

Her lips pressed into a thin line. “I’ve seen him around with his new family,” she said, dully. “They seem really happy.” 

“Hey,” he said gently, brushing her hand with his. “Do you want me to toilet paper his house for you?” 

Astrid spluttered, her hands covering her mouth as she let out a giggle. Hiccup’s heart soared.

“Because I will,” he said. “For you.” 

She let out another laugh, and then sighed. “I’m really happy I have someone to spend Christmas with this year. I’ll see you later, okay?”

“Yeah, later,” Hiccup mumbled, eloquently.

He watched as she scurried off, and then stared down at his shopping trolley. Guilt was settling in his stomach again, as he looked down at his half-assed attempt at buying directions.

For one moment, he hovered in the aisle, and then he pushed his trolley back to the entrance of the store.

* * *

 

“How much stuff did you buy?” 

His father was thumbing through the purchases Hiccup had left on the coffee table, while he busied himself arranging Christmas cards on the mantlepiece.

“You asked me to get some good decorations.”

“I didn’t expect you to go all out,” Stoick said. “What even _is_ this?” 

Hiccup turned to see his father looking down, confused at a white spray can.

“Fake snow,” Hiccup said, wandering towards the table, and pulling an armful of tinsel out of one of the bags. “I thought we could spray it on the windows, y’know, to make it look all wintery and festive.” 

Hiccup left his father staring down at the fake snow and headed towards the tree. It looked rather sparse in the corner, small and unimposing.

“Why do we have the same plastic tree every year?”

Stoick stared at him. “You what?”

“We’ve had this tree for _years_ ,” Hiccup said. “It’s probably older than me. Why don’t we ever get a real one?” 

His father looked incredulous. “I ask you every year if you want to get a real tree, and you can never be bothered!”

Hiccup frowned. Why hadn’t he ever noticed how mediocre this tree was? “Maybe this year we should bother.”

Stoick put a hand on his son’s shoulder and spun him around to look at him. “What’s got into you?” 

“What’s got into _me_?” 

“For months you’ve been grumbling about Christmas, and now you’re hanging tinsel everywhere and asking for a real tree?”

Hiccup sighed. “I just thought that since we have non-family guests this year, we should make an effort.” 

“Riiiight.”

“And, y’know, seeing as the Hoffersons haven’t really had a good family Christmas in a few years and Astrid was saying-”

Stoick’s face lit up in understanding. “Oh, now I see.”

“You see what?” 

“Nothing,” his father said, his eyes glittering. “We’ll get you your tree, don’t you worry, son.”

Then he ruffled Hiccup’s hair and headed for the door, a knowing smile on his face.

* * *

 

**Five Days Until Christmas**

He kept his promise.  

Early in the morning, with his cousin Snotlout in tow, Hiccup and his father went out to pick a tree. Snotlout and his father were the muscle; Hiccup, arms too much like limp noodles to be of any use, supervised, examining every tree.

“Will you just hurry up and pick one?!” Snotlout groaned, while Hiccup stood in front of the sixth tree, stroking his chin in deep thought. “I’m freezing my balls off here!”

“Snotlout! What would your father say?” Stoick said, slapping his nephew across the head. Snotlout grumbled something rude under his breath. “But do hurry up, son, it’s getting pretty cold.”

“Why do you care so much about this? Don’t you usually have a plastic one?”

Stoick leaned over towards Snotlout, conspiratorially. “He’s trying to impress someone.”

“What?!” Hiccup stood up, staring at them both. “No, I’m not.”

“We invited the Hoffersons over to join us on Christmas, and he’s been all flustered about it since.”

Oh hell no.

Hiccup shook his head, vehemently. “That’s not true!” he hedged. “I’m just – trying to be polite!”

His father was grinning now, eyes shining. “He wasn’t looking forward to Christmas until he found out Astrid was going to be there.”

“Wait, _Astrid’s_ going to be there?” Snotlout said. “Now it all makes sense!”

“Snotlout, don’t,” Hiccup said, but it was no use. His cousin was already jeering at him.

“You should see the way he looks at her,” Snotlout said, addressing Stoick. “He’s like a lost puppy.  

“I _have_ seen it,” Stoick joined in, “I see it every time they wait for the school bus.”

Hiccup felt his face burn.  

“Hiccup loves Astrid! Hiccup loves Astrid! Hiccup loves Astrid!” Snotlout began to hoot.  

Hiccup didn’t say another word, he just turned on his heel and stormed off.

* * *

 

**Four Days Until Christmas**

That morning, Stoick stumbled down the stairs to fetch a cup of coffee, only to find his son struggling to heave a huge evergreen tree through the front door. He gave a guilty smile, and then pulled the end of the tree up into his hands, effortlessly hauling it into the living room.

“I had it,” Hiccup grumbled to himself.

“Just trying to help,” Stoick said, and smiled sweetly down at his son. “You want it in the corner there?”

“Yeah, where the old one was,” Hiccup said, although his was still pouting.

Stoick set the tree down, and then took Hiccup by the shoulders, sitting him down on the sofa.

“Why don’t you tell me what’s going on?” Stoick said, joining him in the seat.

“Thought you’d already figured it all out,” Hiccup said, sourly. He stuck his lower lip out, and hunched down in the sofa.

It was childish, he knew, but his pride was still smarting after the way his father and his cousin had spoke to him the day before. It was another reason he dreaded Christmas; somehow, when the whole family was together, it became of game of who could bully Hiccup the most.

“It’s all in good fun!” they’d say when he complained.

All in good fun, his left foot. 

“I’m sorry for teasing you yesterday,” Stoick said, although Hiccup noticed the way his mouth was twitching. “Why don’t you tell what’s going on?”

Hiccup sighed, but he sat back up in his seat. “When we were kids, Astrid loved big Christmas trees,” he said. “She used to try and climb the big one in the town centre. One time, she actually did, and she got half way up there before they managed to stop her.” Halfway through his speech he realised he was grinning, and he did his best to smother it. “But they never had a real tree themselves. She always used to complain about the plastic one they had.”

The corners of Stoick’s mouth crinkled. “I’m sure she wouldn’t be offended by our old plastic one.”

“It’s not that,” Hiccup said. “Astrid... Astrid loves Christmas. She loves everything about it. The magic didn’t go for her. She loves snow, she loves presents, and she really, really loved family, until her dad had to go and ruin it.” He wrinkled his nose. “Last year she didn’t even celebrate Christmas at all. This year, I wanted to make sure it was perfect.”

Stoick stared at his son for a few long moments, and then leapt to his feet. “Alright,” he said, rubbing his hands together. “Where do we start?”

* * *

 

They started by heaving the large tree into a pot that Hiccup had designated for it into the corner, wrapping a set of rainbow lights around.

“We’re going for a silver and purple colour scheme,” Hiccup said. 

The wrapping paper they’d used had been silver with a purple ribbon, and he wanted to make everything colour co-ordinated. 

“Right, of course,” Stoick said, nodding seriously while he hid a smile behind his hand. 

They curled tinsel around the curtain rods, hung baubles from ribbon, and sprinkled fake snow on every available surface. 

Stoick went around and hung mistletoe in every doorway, whistling innocently as he did so. Hiccup went around and methodically took them all down.

“You think it looks okay?” Hiccup said at the end of the day, when he and his father had flopped down exhausted, nursing mugs of hot chocolate while the fireplace crackled.

Stoick grinned down at Hiccup, and ruffled his hair. “She’ll love it.”

* * *

 

**Three Days Until Christmas**

“Bloody hell, it’s like Christmas threw up in here!”

Hiccup heard the voice from upstairs, and followed it down to find Cami standing the middle of his living room.

“What’s happened to you?” she said, in lieu of a hello, looking Hiccup up and down. “Are you ill? Did Father Christmas threaten you at gunpoint to get into the Christmas spirit?”

“Why did you let her in?” Hiccup addressed his father, deadpan.

“She came in before I could stop her,” Stoick said, but he was hiding his smile again. He looked over at their guest. “He’s freaking out because a certain Christmas-loving young lady is joining our celebration this year.”

“Ah, it’s an _Astrid_ thing,” Cami said, grinning knowingly.

“Right!” Hiccup said, linking his arms through hers and forcefully pulling her out the door. “We’re leaving now! Bye, Dad!”

“Lovely to see you again, Cami!” they heard Stoick call with a twinkle in his voice, before Hiccup slammed the front door.

That morning, Hiccup had woken in a panic, realising that there was one very important thing that he’d forgotten.

What a horrible Christmas it would be to watch everyone unwrapping gift after gift, when there was nothing for you. He’d sent a quick text to Cami, Astrid’s cousin, and Hiccup’s official Astrid confidant, and she’d been more than happy to help. Far too eager, if you asked Hiccup, but beggars couldn’t be choosers. 

They hurried off into town, ready to find Astrid the perfect gift.

Last minute shopping was the worst.

The mall had been busy before, but now it was atrocious, hundreds and hundreds of people all packed in together, pushing and shoving so that they could get the last one of whatever they were trying to buy.

And that Mariah Carey song was playing _again._

Hiccup and Cami had to link arms tight to keep track of each other, and they found themselves sighing with relief when they ducked into the first shop they came to, able to breathe away from the crowds.

“What are you looking for, then?” Cami said, as she strolled down an aisle, examining a loud, electronic singing snowman, with uncomfortable interest.

“Something personal,” Hiccup said. “Something thoughtful. Something that she’ll like, but also something that she wouldn’t have thought of.”

“Great, so, not asking for the world or anything.” She flicked a bobble-head Santa. “See anything you like?”

Hiccup wrinkled his nose. “Christmas-themed Christmas presents can only be used once a year. I want her to have something she can keep forever.”

Cami sighed loudly. “Why don’t you just give her a betrothal gift and officially invite her into the family?”

Hiccup scowled. “No,” he said. “That’s dumb.”

She laughed at the expression on his face. “I don’t know why you brought me here, you’re much better at me than gifts,” she said. “I just got Astrid chocolate. I got _everybody_ chocolate.”

“You’re good company,” Hiccup admitted.

Cami beamed.

They looked through shop after shop, looking on shelf after shelf, but there was nothing that Hiccup deemed worthy of giving Astrid. 

Cami’s cheerful demeanour dipped after a few hours, and she began to drag her feet, whining about how much her legs hurt.

“Can’t you just pick something?” she moaned. “We’ve been here for houuurs.”

Hiccup didn’t want to admit it, but he was starting to feel fed up too. As much as he’d managed to get himself into the Christmas spirit for Astrid’s sake, he still didn’t love the holiday. That Mariah Carey song had been playing constantly, and the constant crowds were playing havoc on his anxiety. His introverted self was begging for a chance to get home and not be around people anymore.   

It made him grumpy, a little bit miserable, and maybe a little too snarky.

“Excuse me,” he said to a bewildered shopping assistant. “What would you recommend getting for a girl you’ve been pining after from afar for years, that says ‘hey, I know we haven’t talked in a while, but, y’know what, I’m actually super in love with you’?”

Cami burst into laughter.

* * *

 

In the end, they came home empty handed.

“Don’t worry too much about it,” Cami said, as she nursed her aching feet. “She’s not going to expect anything from you. Trust me, she’s already thrilled that you invited her at all, she isn’t going to expect gifts.”

Hiccup frowned. Truth or not, he still felt like a failure. He should have been able to find her something good.

Some perfect Christmas this was turning out to be.

* * *

 

**Two Days Until Christmas**

The eve of Christmas Eve brought Astrid Hofferson herself to the Haddock front door.

“Astrid!” Stoick said. “What can I do for you this morning?” 

Her arms were kept firmly behind her back. “Morning, Mr. Haddock,” she said, smiling sweetly. “Is Hiccup in?”

“Hiccup!” he called up the stairs. “Young lady here for you!”

“Aaaaastrid,” he said with a grin, leaning against the doorframe in a way that wasn’t quite casual. “What can I do for you?”

“I was wondering if I could take you up on that offer,” she said, her eyes tracking Hiccup’s father as he made himself scarce. Then she produced a roll of toilet paper from behind her back, and revealed a bag full of them.

Hiccup grinned.

* * *

 

He joined her out in the cold, bundled up in a coat and hat to match hers.

Astrid waited for him out on the doorstep, hunched over for warmth, her mouth hidden by a scarf. Her nose was bright red, poking through the gap in the wool. 

She was impossibly cute.

“Not that I’m gonna stop you or anything,” Hiccup said, as they walked through the suburbs, frost on the ground crunching underfoot. He’d taken the bag of loo roll from her, and was cradling it in his arms. “But what brought this on?” 

“I went to see Dad.”

“Ah.” 

“I got all angry, you see,” she said, her jaw set on edge. “I started thinking about how unfair it was that he’s done this to us, and how it wasn’t fair that he doesn’t even seem to want to see me anymore, and I was so worked up that I went to his house.”

Hiccup winced. “Oh, no.”

“Oh, no, indeed,” Astrid said, and smiled without any mirth. “His new wife opened it. She gave me such a blank look, and then called her kids in, like I was looking for trouble. I told her that I was his husband’s daughter, and she damn near slammed the door on my face.”

His mouth dropped open. “She didn’t know who you were?”

“Not a clue. Then Dad came out and started spinning a story about how I was a neighbourhood kid playing a prank, and then he grabbed me by the elbow, dragged me out into the garden and told me that he didn’t want to see me and that if he saw me here again, he’d call the police,” she said bitterly, clutching her arm. “Merry fucking Christmas to me.”

Hiccup felt a surge of anger hot in his chest. “What an asshole,” he said. 

“Too right,” Astrid said. “The worst thing is that I still want him to come home and say that he made a mistake, even after everything he’s done. At least, I want him to do it so that I can slam the door in his face.”

“Well, my lady,” Hiccup said, brandishing the bag of bog roll on high, “I can’t promise you that, but I can promise you that their front lawn will be white as snow by noon.”

Astrid grinned.

 When they got to Astrid’s father’s new home, they wasted no time pulling the toilet roll out and letting it unfurl across the lawn.

“Make it raaaain!” Astrid cawed, as she pelted through the grass, white tails trailing behind her. 

Hiccup busied himself with draping toilet paper over a Santa statue that was taking up space next to the pathway. It really was an ugly Santa statue, its knobbly face glaring up at Hiccup underneath toilet paper hair. 

“They should thank us,” Hiccup remarked as he admired his handiwork. “It’s like discount snow.”

Soon, the front garden was a veritable sea of toilet paper. It hung from the tree, it was tangled in the hedge, and Astrid had even managed to get some on the roof of the house.

Just as they were about to leave, a car pulled into the driveway. Astrid’s father’s new wife was red and spitting behind the wheel.

“What on Earth do you think you’re doing?” she spat.

“Ma’am,” Hiccup said, stepping forward. “It’s my unfortunate duty to let you know that your husband is an asshole. Merry Christmas!”

Then he took Astrid’s hand and ran.

* * *

 

They were still giggling when they made it back to Hiccup’s room, lying on his floorboards and clutching their stomachs. 

“That added years onto my life,” Astrid said, wiping a tear from her eye. “ _Years_.”

“I still can’t get over her face,” Hiccup said. “And did you see her kids?”

At the very last moment before they’d run away, her children had jumped out of the car and danced in the loo roll, jumping up and down and throwing it in the air, giggling madly. They’d heard her screaming at them to stop even while they’d been running away.

“This is the best thing anyone has ever done for me,” she said, with a grin, and then she turned to look at Hiccup, giggles stopping for a moment as her eyes scanned his face. “I’ve missed you.”

Hiccup felt his cheeks go hot. “I’ve missed you too.”  

“I miss when we were kids, everything was simpler back before high school got in the way,” she said.

“It still could be,” Hiccup said, and realised he’d been staring at her. “Simple, I mean. It could still be simple.”

“We were as close as anything once,” she said. “You gave me a charm bracelet once and said that it was a sign that we were going to be best friends for life. I don’t know what happened.”

“Life just got in the way,” Hiccup said.

“I wish it hadn’t,” she whispered. 

Then she glanced at the clock on the wall and shot up. Hiccup blinked in surprise.

“Sorry!” she said. “I promised Mum I’d be home before four.”

Hiccup pulled himself up off the floor. “Let me walk you out.”  

He took her down to the front hallway and watched as she put her coat and scarf on.

Before she left, she put a hand on Hiccup’s shoulder. “Thanks,” she said. “For everything.”

“It was nothing.”

When she was halfway down the driveway, he had an idea.

“Hey, Astrid?” he called, standing on the doorway.

She turned back.

“Do you still have that bracelet you were talking about?”

Her forehead creased up. “No,” she said. “I think I lost it.”

* * *

 

**Christmas Eve**

Stoick awoke on Christmas Eve to his son stressing over place names.

Every year Hiccup made little card place names to put on the dinner table, so people would know where to sit. He’d been writing the name and drawing a little picture next to it, and hadn’t noticed that he’d absentmindedly doodled hearts all around Astrid’s name. 

He screwed it up and started again.

Stoick kneeled down beside his son and put a hand on his shoulder. “You know there’s only so much more that you can do.”

“I just really want it to be perfect.”

“You really care about her, don’t you?” his father said, softly.

“I do.”

* * *

 

**Christmas Day**

After all the fuss and panic that had characterised the past week, Christmas Day dawned surprisingly calm. Hiccup woke to find his stocking at the end of his bed filled with goods, and he spent an hour that morning in his pyjamas, shelling out silly gifts from their paper home. 

When the clock struck a reasonable time, Hiccup padded downstairs, to find his father already awake and wrestling with a raw turkey.

“Need any help?” 

“I’ve got this covered, son, don’t you worry,” he said. “Why don’t you put some nibbles out and set the table?”

There was a routine to Christmas that Hiccup had always liked, even if in recent years the holiday had fallen out of favour. Nibbles, Christmas lunch, presents, and then games. That was how Christmas went, and that was how Hiccup liked it.

It wasn’t until the doorbell rang that Hiccup started to panic again.

The Hoffersons were the first to arrive, and Astrid greeted Hiccup with a hug that made his chest pound.

Since their little excursion to her father’s house and their subsequent talk in Hiccup’s room, he’d found himself even further gone for her than he could have imagined. It was a struggle not to get flustered with her this close, especially with her looking as good as she did. 

She was wearing an oversized Christmas sweater, sleeves covering her hands, and her hair was down, and she looked so positively cute that Hiccup wanted to kiss her right then and there.

“Merry Christmas, Hiccup,” she said, with a smile so bright that it lit up the room. 

Gradually, more and more of Hiccup’s family flooded into the house and filled up their home with noise and laughter. Snotlout arrived and greeted Astrid with a nod and not-so-subtle nudge of his elbow into Hiccup’s side. Hiccup scowled at him.

Astrid wasn’t a stranger to a lot of his relatives. Astrid had been a constant in Hiccup’s childhood, and as they’d grown apart, he’d endured dozens of questions about her absence. Everyone was delighted to see her again, and Hiccup was struck by the notion that Astrid fit in extremely well with his family.

Then he pushed that thought aside, and ordered everyone into the dining room for dinner.

* * *

 

Christmas dinner in the Haddock household was an experience like no other.

The room was crowded, dozens of chairs squeezed into a small space, around a table that was groaning with the spread of food.

They ate, and ate, and ate until their stomachs were bursting and their plates were picked clean. They pulled crackers, told jokes, played with the silly little toys inside them. Everyone was in a wonderful mood. Astrid’s smile was brighter than Hiccup had ever seen it, a purple paper cracker crown on her head, making her look like a princess.

 _Okay_ , Hiccup told himself. _Enough of the princess talk._

But she did look pretty. 

They had just flopped back down into the living room, full to bursting and utterly content, when they heard the shouting outside.

It was distant at first, but then it got louder and louder, until it was right outside the front door.

Astrid and Hiccup both realised at the same time that it was Astrid’s mother and another male voice. They both shot a look at each other.

Bertha Hofferson, who had just nipped back over to her house to get something, had found the last person she expected waiting on her doorstep.  

She burst into the living room. “Astrid, I’m sorry,” she said. “I tried to keep him out, I tried, but he wouldn’t—”

“YOU!” 

Astrid rose out of her seat, dread pooling in her stomach as her father stormed into the room, pointing his finger at her. Hiccup had risen too, standing shoulder to shoulder with Astrid. 

“David, stop!” Bertha screamed, attempting to pull Astrid’s father out of the room. “Not here. Not now!”

The whole room had gone silent, everyone staring stunned at the scene in front of them. Hiccup took hold of Astrid’s hand. 

“What are you doing here?” Astrid said, her voice stony.

That seemed to enrage him. “Do you realise what you’ve done?” her father screamed, spraying spittle everywhere. 

“No,” she said, calmly. “What have I done?”

“After your little _stunt_ ,” he spat, “my wife wanted to know who you were. She found out that I was married while we were dating and now she’s leaving me. On _Christmas._ You’ve ruined everything.” 

There was a ripple of disgusted noises through the room.

Stoick stepped in, staring down at the man with dark, dangerous eyes. “I think you better leave.”

“No,” he snapped. “Not until I’ve talked to my daughter.”

“Your daughter?” Astrid said, incredulously. “Your _daughter_?!”

She slipped her hand out of Hiccup’s and took a step towards her father. “I stopped being your daughter the day you walked out on me and Mum for another woman. I stopped being your daughter when you decided to pretend I didn’t exist. Make all the accusations that you want, throw any insults you like, but if anyone has ruined Christmas for you, it’s _you_. I won’t let you ruin it for me.”  

There was a long, stagnant pause, and then he lunged at her. Hiccup jumped in front of Astrid, and he wasn’t the only one. Half the adults in the room had jumped out of their seats, either to get in front of Astrid or to pull her father back.

Stoick was the closest, and the strongest. He slammed two meaty hands onto her father’s shoulders.

“Leave now,” he said, stern.

“But—”

“Get out of my house,” Stoick said. Every word was venom.

He looked as if he was going to argue, but Stoick stood firmly, arms crossed. Astrid’s father scurried away, the front door slamming behind him.

Astrid immediately got up and left the room.

* * *

 

Hiccup hurried after her, and found her sitting on the bottom of the stairs, staring at her feet. Her eyes flickered up when she heard him come in.

“Hiccup, I’m so sorry,” she said. “I didn’t mean for him to spoil your party.”

“It wasn’t your fault,” he said, sinking down onto the step next to her. “Are you okay?”

“I’m fine. I’m mad as hell, but I’m fine.”

“He’s an asshole,” Hiccup said.

Astrid scoffed. “Understatement.”

“Are you sure you’re okay?” Hiccup said quietly, his fingers brushing against hers.

She looped her fingers through his, so they were holding hands. Hiccup cursed his heart for speeding up so much.

“I’m fine. I’m just sad that he had to come ruin the fun. You put so much effort into all of this,” she said.

Hiccup scratched the back of his head. “I wanted it to be perfect,” he mumbled, and then as an afterthought, he added, “for you.”

Astrid blinked. “For me?”

“Y’know, you always used to talk about how much you loved Christmas,” he said, rolling his shoulders uncomfortably. “And I couldn’t bear to see you so upset about your father, and not having Christmas last year, so I, uh, did all of this.”

“All of this was for me?”

“Well, yeah,” he said. “Actually, there’s one thing I’ve forgotten. Hang on a sec.”

Hiccup left a bewildered Astrid on the stairs as he disappeared into the living room. He reappeared a few moments later with a silver covered gift. 

“Here you go,” he said, handing it to her. “Happy Christmas.”

“This is for me?”

“Yeah.”

Astrid’s brow furrowed. “But I didn’t get you anything!”

“That’s okay,” Hiccup said, with a soft smile. “I wasn’t expecting anything back. Go on, open it.”

She did, opening the present with care so that none of the paper ripped. Inside was a small velvet box. Astrid opened it, carefully.

Inside was a shiny, silver charm bracelet, with two charms already attached, one a small cat, the other, a heart.  Astrid stared at it, her mouth dropping open.

“The cat’s me,” Hiccup explained. “The heart’s you. I thought it could be about new beginnings. Start a new bracelet, with new charms to remind you of happier things, instead of thinking about the bad stuff from before.”

Astrid still hadn’t said anything. 

“Uh, if you don’t like it, that’s fine, I can—”

“Hiccup,” she said, and he stopped talking. “I was wrong before.”

“You were?”

“ _This_ is the best thing anyone has ever done for me.”

Hiccup flushed, a dorky smile spreading across his face. “It was nothing. I just wanted to see you happy.” 

“God, Hiccup, how are you so perfect?” she said. 

Hiccup ducked his head, staring at the floor. His smile was so big, his cheeks were aching. There was a long pause, while the two of them stared at their feet, both unable to stop themselves from grinning. Astrid slipped the bracelet onto her wrist.

“But, it’s not the real question,” she said, casually.

Hiccup blinked at her confused. “What’s the real question?”

“Did you notice?”

“Notice what?”

Her eyes flickered upwards, the corners of her mouth twisting. His eyes followed hers.

“Mistletoe.”

_Damn his father._

Before he could register what was happening, Astrid had pulled him close, eyes sliding shut as their lips brushed together, her hand sliding up to cup his cheek. Their foreheads brushed, and Hiccup ran his fingers through her hair. When they came up for air, both of them looked at each other in the eye and giggled.

“Well,” Hiccup said. “I think Christmas might be my new favourite holiday.”  

Astrid laughed, and then kissed him again.

And again.

And again.

**_Fin._ **


End file.
